Yaku
by thegunboy
Summary: Maybe he's nobody from nowhere, but Hanatarou holds all the aces in this story based on the Japanese card-game "hanafuda." Apologies for non-canon-ness...some language, cos Shunsui needs his mouth washed out with soap.


**Yaku**

His manners are good because he's been taught that being quiet and useful is a virtue, and that it's his duty to do everything he can to offset his disadvantages.

_You're not big, you're not fast, you're not graceful or strong or powerful. You're not talented or noble. You're nobody and you come from nothing. District 80 trash. Be grateful someone bothered to prolong your existence – such as it is. _

He doesn't have to be reminded any more, that voice is in his head. Even if it wasn't, Hanatarou would never mistake himself for anything other than nobody, because every day he sees what he'll never be.

Kuchiki Byakuya – everyone already calls him "taicho" behind his back, and he's still just a student. Except he could never be _just _anything – he looks like he breathes a different air than the rest of them. So it's not much of a surprise that he's just beaten Shunsui four out of six games in the unofficial hanafuda tournament that's been running for the last couple of days in the students' common-room. Hanatarou's pretty sure that Shunsui only won his two games because Ise Nanao helped him out – she's the only other player good enough to give Kuchiki any real competition, and Hanatarou's enjoyed watching the elegant precision of her play, the way the cards fall into place for her as if they didn't dare do anything but form themselves into high-scoring _yaku_.

Nanao rolls her eyes as Shunsui throws down his last useless cards with a growl and Kuchiki calmly gathers them into a pile for shuffling.

"Another game?" he asks, tucking the dangling end of his scarf out of the way.

"Fuck, no," Shunsui says, getting to his feet, and Hanatarou, who's drawn closer to watch, scuttles back out of his way. "I'm tired of losing and I need to piss. You take him on, Nanao-chan – it's a damn girls' game anyway…"

"No, it's a thugs' game," Kuchiki Byakuya says, turning and sorting the little rectangular cards with their pictures of animals and flowers and poem-ribbons. "Surprising you're not better at it, Shunsui."

Shunsui looks as if he'd like to feed Byakuya the deck. "Then what we need is a real gangster to give you some trouble_, taicho_…" He reaches out and snags the sleeve of Hanatarou's coat, dragging him back, dark eyes glittering with what would have been malice if the eyes belonged to anyone other than Shunsui Kyouraku. "Yamada here is an old street-punk, aren't you, Hana-chan? Flower cards, Flower-boy. Makes sense to _me_." He pushes down hard on Hanatarou's shoulder, folding the smaller boy into the vacated place opposite Byakuya.

Not sure who the joke's supposed to be on, Hanatarou glances at Byakuya and smiles apologetically – he's never even spoken to the high-ranking senpai, much less sat down with him for any reason, so the smile is a little shaky. One of Kuchiki's well-bred eyebrows flicks upward and Hanatarou knows it's only politeness that's keeping him from getting up and walking away.

"I'm sorry, Kuchiki-senpai," he starts, but Byakuya stops him with a look. "Draw for _oya," _he says, offering Hanatarou the deck. _Noblesse oblige._

_Good enough_. "Low card deals?" Hanatarou says, flicking the top card off neatly.

"Um. Yes, of course." Byakuya takes the next card and flips it over. It's the cherry-blossom _tanzaku_, worth five points. Hanatarou's got a single-point wisteria.

"_Kuromame_," he says without thinking. " Black beans. Deck, please." Both of Kuchiki's eyebrows go up at the slang and stay that way as Hanatarou shuffles and deals. His smile may have been shaky but that's all that is; the cards are only a flying black blur, the last one hitting the mat with a stylish backhand smack.

Behind Hanatarou, Nanao gives a soft cough. "I don't suppose," he hears her say, "that anyone would care to make a small wager on the outcome of this game?"

"Told you," Shunsui's voice answers. "Go on, Flower-boy, show Princess how the other half plays."

But Hanatarou's not listening now; the cards are familiar, friendly, and he whispers the names of the yaku as he lays them down _- Duelling Triads, Four Dry Bright, Ino-Shika-Chou – _whispers them the way he learned them, in the rough, remembered accent of the Rukongai 80.


End file.
